The Courtship of the Heavenly Plates: A Pokémon Emerald Nuzlocke
by Fuzzboy
Summary: Hoenn. Once a prolific, peaceful land, and now nothing more than consumed by beasts. As cults come on the rise and the monarchy is left speechless at what to do, a boy slowly enters the kingdom, and in the process, may just learn how he can save it. Though, sacrifices may need to be made, in order to secure the safety of future generations.


**Author's Note**

...Wait, what the Hell, why am I-

_Awhile back, a friend of mine named Jack, also known as PlegianGengar on here, started up a story called, "The Ash of The Earth", a Pokémon Nuzlocke taking place in the Kanto region, following "Red" and his journey through it. It's a darker though more humorous take on the standard Nuzlocke, and overall I think it's a good though flawed story so far...But it got me thinking._

...What the fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

_I ended up suggesting a sort of expanded continuity, where his story took place in a universe that involved a bunch of other stories, all written by different people. It worked out, and we amassed a large team of people to do that very thing…The only issue is...Most of the team is either too busy, too slow, or too preoccupied to do said idea, so it's most likely not going to be achieved for quite some time._

This feels and seems weird...Um. Okay, I'll just...Pause this. So, basically I'm part of a Nuzlocke continuity. Before you ask you don't really need to read the other stories in the continuity to get it. Like at all. They're all connected but in the same way that like..._Orange Is The New Black_ and _Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt_ are connected. Same universe but you really don't need to look at the other one to get this one. That sorta thing, so don't feel pressured to instantly jump into this new thing. You can just read this one and ignore the others if you really want to.

But if you DO want to read them(please support the good people), the stories are in order of continuity; _"A Dream Or Reality" _by Vexan, _"The Iron Knight"_ by maycontestdrew, this story, and _"The Rose That Was Always Red" _by Plegian Gengar, all of which can be read on this site if you care. If not then do your own thing and read what you want cause I'm not your mom. Personally, though, my story will be taking place in _Hoenn_.

NOW THEN, time to play this again.

_Why'd I choose Hoenn and not say...Unova, or Kalos, or literally just wait for Galar? Well, Hoenn is sorta my second least favorite of the regions, so I sorta am doing this as an experiment to see if I can do more with what is probably seen as one of the most universally "meh" regions in the series._

_That and the characters are boring. The Hoenn characters are the most uninteresting in the entire franchise for me. I want to change up their personalities and actually...Do something with them. Make the characters less footnotes with one-note personalities and instead into ones people will actually remember. Or...At least not forget every couple of minutes. It's sorta bad when your most memorable characters are a professor who gets mauled by a level two dog and a pair of twins who nobody likes._

On that note...These will adaptations of characters, and thus will be a LOT different. Don't come into this expecting accuracy to a video game franchise infamous for the line, "I like shorts. They're comfy and easy to wear."

_Anyways, you all know how a Nuzlocke works, the rules aren't exactly that different. Except I did my Nuzlocke with the IDEA of it being a story so obviously expect events to get overdramatized compared to the games, or even have events moved around to form a more coherent, thoughtful narrative. Regardless, if a Pokémon faints, it's dead. Though here are the basic rules:_

_· If a Pokémon faints, it must be released and is considered dead in the story._

_· The first Pokémon encountered in each Route are the only Pokémon that can be caught. (Dupe clause is in effect.)_

_· All Pokémon must have Nicknames, so I'll be emotionally attached._

_· Yes, I did steal this from you, Jack, come at me._

Well...I guess that's done. I don't really wanna keep boring you with a meta-joke, so instead, I'll say this...This story is going to have a horror feel to it. Cause I enjoy horror and horror media, and the sort of atmosphere it creates. I'm not going straight horror, but you very well notice the effect.

If you're still around...Enjoy.

**WARNING****:** **This story will contain a multitude of pretty fucked up shit (duh). Viewer discretion is advised.**

**ALSO EXPECT EXPOSITION-**

* * *

Rain poured down hard on the empty, concrete streets of the small town of Littleroot, the night sky almost appearing a bright orange color thanks to the clouds above. Light was rare, with only the lanterns held above the streets offering anything to illuminate the dark, decrepit town, and a single solitary building.

A pub. A small, wooden one, with an ancient look to it, including the roof seemingly made from thick straw. The windows were thin and cracked, their age having made them weak to the elements of the outside, and the paint on the walls outside was running, revealing the stone bricks that made up it's exterior.

After a moment, the wooden doors slammed open, as a tall, gangly man with limbs as long as pitchforks walking out, his toothy smile and hollow eyes barely visible after a crack of thunder erupted in the sky.

Moments later, a voice called out to the man from the inside. "Willy, you okay to get home? It's almost midnight."

The man coughed out a laugh, as he pushed himself forward in a shallow attempt at walking, attempting to ignore his limp legs. "I'm fine Brucie. I got time...Don't worry I got time." Another laugh escaped his weak body, as he stumbled forward into the storm.

Ol' Willy wasn't known for much in Littleroot besides drowning his sorrows each night, seemingly attempting to ignore the tattered Hell he called his life. His wife, God bless her soul, hadn't been long for this world after the birth of their daughter, and while he loved her dearly, life seemed to lost all interest to the man, retiring early and basically living off his own flesh and blood to keep getting by.

As such, it wasn't an unusual sight to see him crawling back home, begging to be let in, screaming his head off for all to hear on how sorry he was he kept his daughter waiting, and she'd let him in of course. And that routine would repeat. Night after night after night. In fact, it wouldn't be much of a surprise if he was working his routine out in his head right now, preparing the bull he'd spew to her this night, wanting to keep himself from going off-script. Or maybe not, as who'd think Ol' Willy was actually capable of thinking?

Taking a turn down an alley, Willy couldn't help but let out another laugh as he walked right into a trash can, falling to the side as it rolled off of him, covering his chest in a gross, sort of brown sewage that ran down his legs. And yet there he was, laying on the ground covered in mud and grease, the stench of alcohol rising from his weak old body, cackling madly at some kind of nonexistent humor nobody understood but him.

But within seconds...That humor disappeared, as a bell rang out across the city.

Then a second...A third...A fourth…

His face paled and eyes shrunk, as each passing bell rang out. Pushing himself up and barely managing to stop his long, slick shoes from slipping on the floor, Willy began to run down the streets as fast as he could, sprinting for dear life as his jagged, unkempt teeth bit into his bottom lip.

And then...The twelfth bell rang out...Midnight.

"_Help!"_ Willy screamed out for all to hear, his footsteps grew louder for the second. "Please, somebody help me!"

If a man, woman, or child had heard his pleas, they certainly ignored them, as not a single soul peeped out from the houses as he ran down the streets of Littleroot.

_Not too far to go. He could make it! He could make it before they got there-_

Willy let out a howl of pain as he felt a pair of sharp teeth snap into the back of his left foot, quickly tearing away at the visible skin and forcing him to the ground in one swift motion. Undeterred though in pain, he threw his arms forward, crawling as fast as he could to evade whatever had attacked him. Within moments though, another scream came as the teeth once more tore into his legs, and it only grew louder as another pair bit into the center of his back.

Flinging around his body and smashing it into the wall beside them, Willy barely maintained consciousness, desperately wishing the pain would just end, as the beasts above him slowly pulled him apart, more and more of the creatures showing themselves from the darkness and surrounding his desperate, pleading body.

As the clock hit five after twelve, the screams were no more, the once laughing old man having been permanently silenced, as his body lay on the sidewalk; his back torn open, revealing flesh and bone underneath the remnants of the shirt, his remains splattered in blood. And his eyes, though hollow, had shown brightly moments before, but now, were dark, almost pitch black, as if he had never shone so brightly at all.

And as he lay there, not too far away, howls began to call out to the moon above.

* * *

The horn of the train blew out steam in a fuss, a loud, booming sound erupting soon after. Tumbling down the thin, metal tracks, in one of the containers near the back sat a single boy, no older than his early twenties, who stared out at the horizon before him in slight awe, as a pleasant smile remained on his face.

Admittedly the boy was no sight. Not a looker by any means, tan skin, and the beginnings of a four o'clock shadow were all that really stood out about his face, and his body type was simply average. His clothing as well, being a brown vest with a yellow tunic underneath, along with loose, dirty pants no more suitable for a horse rancher, along with shoes that seemed to barely be keeping themselves together.

As far as he was aware, he was just "Brendan", and that's all that mattered to him, at least for now. At least until he found _them_.

On cue, thanks to his extended travels with the train, it came to a stop. Due to the unpredictability of the new vehicular device, the conductor would bring the train to a stop every few hours and check on everything aboard. And as usual, Brendan went about with how he had avoided discovery so many times before, standing up, walking over to a seemingly innocent, non-important box hidden behind a few others, and with a simple twist of a hand, opened it and crawled inside.

The box wasn't especially large, barely fitting Brendan's whole body inside, and for anywhere between a few minutes to even an hour at times, he'd simply lay there and allow his body to grow uncomfortable. After all, mild annoyance is a plus compared to getting kicked off the train.

Soon after, the conductor arrived. Looking through a small hole on the side of the box, he got a good view of the man. Tall though pudgy, with dark blue overalls and a large, bushy white beard, who was seemingly somewhere in his late fifties or so. Holding up a small lantern in his hand, he began to walk forward through the cart.

And like usual, found seemingly nothing. He checked all the usual spots, found nothing, and seemed to be preparing to leave. He gave one last look around the room, as Brendan continued to stare at him. And for just a moment...Their eyes met.

Quickly Brendan looked away, slumping against the side of the box as a last resort to avoid being caught. However, this meant little, as the lid was moved away, and a gruff though proud voice boomed out, "Ah hah! There 'ya are 'ya little rat!"

Reaching down into the box and grabbing Brendan by the edge of his shirt, the boy was thrown out into the center of the cart, as the conductor ground his teeth. "I knew there was somethin' off with this damned train! Food's been goin' missin', and I knew there was either a beast aboard or some mooching scum like you!"

Groaning to himself at his own incompetence, Brendan pushed himself up, turning to the man with a forced smile. "Well, guess this whole thing is over. And just when I had started getting used to living here."

"You're real lucky I don't call up the local marshall and his knights and have them take you away, kid! But I'm feelin' nice, so I'll give 'ya a chance; get outta here and never return to this 'ere train, and this goes away." The conductor stated, his eyes narrowed as the boy shifted to himself.

Rubbing the underside of his chin, Brendan eventually muttered, "...Better than prison at least. I can deal with that."

"Good," the man simply responded, before barking out, "now get off me train!"

Brendan jumped off the cart soon after, and with reluctance, began to slowly stomp away from the train and walk down the hill, but not before calling back, "Do you know where the closest town is?"

"Do I look like a damn map?! Figure it out 'yaself, 'ya dirty bastard!"

An expected response admittedly. With a sigh, Brendan shook away the worries that were slowly building up in his head, and instead began to walk forward into the forest. As far as he knew, that train had gone right across the ocean as he slept overnight, meaning...He wasn't in Johto now. Smirking to himself, Brendan let out a quiet whistle, as the sun began to rise overhead.

Welcome to Hoenn, Brendan.

* * *

**AND that's it for now! I just sorta wanted to make a quick little introduction chapter to sorta get the story going. Next chapter, everything gets a move on story-wise, and you learn what the Hell that first scene was about. We'll also meet some of our main cast for this story, along with who Brendan's starter is. Trust me...It won't be what you expect.**

**Small tip for this story, expect the unexpected...God is that really how I'm ending this-**


End file.
